


Subject 13A (Iwaizumi Hajime) Status: Missing

by Catsaremeow



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, BAMF Iwaizumi Hajime, Dependable Oikawa Tooru, Human Experimentation, I have no idea, M/M, Protective Iwaizumi Hajime, Sci-Fi AU, Seihoj 4, implied pre-slash, mild gun violence, oneshot(?), supportive bfs and bffs, unedited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-23
Updated: 2021-03-23
Packaged: 2021-03-24 05:46:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30067566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catsaremeow/pseuds/Catsaremeow
Summary: Iwaizumi Hajime knew he wasn't normal but he never entertained the idea that he was anything other than human. That was the first mistakeor the experiment!Hajime AU I decided to bring into this world
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime & Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Kudos: 1





	Subject 13A (Iwaizumi Hajime) Status: Missing

**Author's Note:**

> This was just a very spur of the moment plot bunny that I thought of while sitting on the beach so hope your expectations aren't that high 
> 
> Im not going to edit it now at least, this is rough guys, 
> 
> anyway, the chances of me continuing this are low, so I thought I'd post what I have so far instead

For as long as he could remember, Iwaizumi Hajime was different. When he was seven, his father scared him in the hallway and he ended up flipping the man and nerve striking him. Neither his father or mother seemed very surprised that he knew how to do either of those things but since worked to make sure their son knew of their presence before touching him. 

Iwaizumi knew he was different because when he became best friends with Oikawa Tooru, his friend didn’t react the same to touch, he thrived off of it. Oikawa’s mother was never shy with hugs, his father ruffled his hair and his older sister tickled him mercilessly. 

Iwaizumi had never seen anything like it. 

By nine years old, Oikawa had only taken six punches to the face before learning to duck around Iwaizumi’s knee jerk reaction to being draped upon or smacked in the arm or hugged and everything between.

And Iwaizumi never told him to stop, never seriously at least (not that he thinks it could stop the kid with octopus arms for limbs). 

It seemed that Oikawa was the only person who knew Iwaizumi craved the touches he watched others get. The hugs from mothers looked warm but after almost breaking his own mother’s wrist she quit trying to give him them. The tickle fights Oikawa had with his sister looked fun, both of them grinning widely in pure joy. 

If someone tried to tickle Iwaizumi, he’d probably end up killing them. 

He didn’t know why.

xXx

The one thing Iwaizumi allowed Oikawa to call ‘good’ about his instincts is their speed. Particularly their speed in volleyball. 

They figured it out by accident, a sunny day when they were both ten and bored. One second, Oikawa was practicing setting and then next, the ball was flying for Iwaizumi’s face. His eyes had widened and a hand flew up, hitting the ball away from him with a resounding smack. It was quiet before Oikawa’s face split into a smile. Iwaizumi looked from the ball to his hand before turning a glare onto his friend. 

“Watch where you aim that loserkawa.” He said, never really in any danger but regardless irritated. Oikawa didn’t even splutter at the name, eyes shining with something that set Iwaizumi on edge. 

“Iwa-chan, do you want to practice with me?” He asked, and Iwaizumi looked down, a scowl starting to wrinkle his features. 

“We already tried that, I don't like setting with you.” 

Oikawa frantically whipped his head from side to side, his hair fanning out as he shook his head. “No, Iwa-chan I’m going to set it, I was you to spike it.” That made Iwaizumi pause in his denial. He squinted at his friend. 

“Spike it. Okay.” He said after two minutes of pretending to think about it. 

Getting up, the two moved away from the fence surrounding Iwaizumi’s backyard and further into the center. “Ready?” Oikawa asked, getting ready to throw the ball. Iwaizumi nodded and watched the ball as Oikawa threw it up into the air. Tucking his arms together in front of him, he underhand passed the ball back to where Oikawa was standing, hands raised in preparation. Slim fingers spread evenly, the volleyball was launched back towards Iwaizumi. 

Taking a few steps back, Iwaizumi rushed forward and jumped as high as he could, hand drawing back before his brain said now and whipped his arm forward. The ball was sent flying towards the ground before rebounding and bouncing into Oikawa’s arms. After he landed, Iwaizumi clenched and unclenched his fist, his palm stinging. 

“Woah,” Oikawa said, looking down at the ball. Iwaizumi paused, wondering why his friend looked so serious all of the sudden. Oikawa’s head snapped up and his eyes were sparkling. His joy was blinding. “When I become a real setter, you’re gonna be my ace Iwa-chan.” His voice held no room for argument. 

And so Iwaizumi didn’t argue. 

xXx

The first time his abnormal-ness truly came up was when Iwaizumi and Oikawa were first years in High School. 

It was a miracle that Iwaizumi’s parents had allowed him to attend Aoba Johsai (he had Oikawa to thank for that) and part of the deal was that he would never walk places alone. Kitagawa Daiichi was close to where Iwaizumi’s mother worked but this High School was farther from home. It was a little strange to have his parents worry while also knowing what he was capable of. They knew that Iwaizumi knew more ways to break an elbow than ice cream flavors and yet still hovered like he was fragile. 

Walking home with Oikawa wasn’t so bad though. Halfway through the year it proved to be Iwaizumi’s second favorite part of the day (He would never tell Oikawa that). 

“Did you see the way the captain’s jaw dropped when you hit that ball? He totally thought ‘no way are these first years going to pull it off’ and then we did!” Oikawa’s arms waved in Iwaizumi’s peripheral vision but at this point he had conditioned himself to not react. Too many times he’d almost attacked his friend for being excited and each time it filled him with a little guilt. 

Passing an alley, Iwaizumi was prepared to continue walking like always before something caught his eye. It was nothing more than a smudge of grey in the black but it was enough to trigger his attention. No sound. He stopped and peered into the dark.

“I can’t wait to do it again tomorrow,” Oikawa looked over before slowing his steps, coming to a halt a few feet away. “What’re you looking at?” Looking down the same alley, Oikawa searched for anything worth interest. 

“I thought I saw something,” Iwaizumi said hesitantly. Hitching his backpack higher up on his shoulders, he turned ready to just keep walking before someone emerged. Multiple someones. 

“You want somethin’ punk?” A kid probably the same age as the captain on the volleyball team looked down at Oikawa and Iwaizumi, everything on him screaming thug. Ripped jeans, loose chains around his neck and a sweater with enough holes to look like swiss cheese. The two kids behind him looked no better. 

“No,” Oikawa said, reaching for Iwaizumi’s arm. “We were just leaving.” Snagging the desired uniform sleeve, Oikawa tugged his friend closer, avoiding the cursory elbow in self defense. Iwaizumi resisted the pulling for a second longer before allowing Oikawa to slowly draw him back. 

“Oh were you?” On the sidewalk around them two more kids approached, making five in total. “You private school kids, think you’re such smooth talkers.” He sneered and jerked his head toward the teen closest to Iwaizumi. “Rough ‘em up.” 

Oikawa blanched. “There’s no need for-” 

The hand grabbing the back of Iwaizumi’s collar stood no chance. Twisting, Iwaizumi rotated the wrist of the kid grabbing him, flipping him onto his back. The breath rushed from the thug’s body, leaving him winded. 

“-that.” Oikawa finished a little too late. There was a moment of silence while the teens registered what had happened and the one on the ground had a frozen expression of shock. 

The thugs all looked in sync at Iwaizumi and as one bared their teeth in snarls. 

To be blunt, Oikawa didn’t remember much of the fight. Iwaizumi moved almost robotically, every dodge and retaliation looked to be calculated and memorized. Oikawa watched in partial wonder and partial horror as the four remaining teens--all of them at least two years older than the first years--were embarrassingly pounded. 

It was shocking to witness to say the least. 

When each of them were groaning on the ground (either winded or in one person’s case completely unconscious), Oikawa moved to grab Iwaizumi. If they could get away while the thugs were on the concrete they would probably make it to his house without incident. 

As soon as fingers brushed his elbow, Iwaizumi whirled around. His hand closed around Oikawa’s throat. 

His green eyes were dull. 

“Iw-” Ouch, that hurt. “Iwa-chan.” Fingers dug in at the sides of his neck, undoubtedly leaving marks. Oikawa’s heart jumped. His hands jerked up and closed around Iwaizumi’s wrist and arm, tugging down and away. “Let go.” 

It was like a switch had been flipped and Iwaizumi loosened his grip, eyes taking in exactly what he had been doing. He yanked his hand back with astonishing speed. Oikawa could taste something sour as he watched his friends eyes flash with fear. 

“Shit,” he said quietly and looked from Oikawa’s throat to his face. He looked guilty. “Shit Oikawa I’m sorry-” 

Raising a hand up to feel the skin, the setter ignored his still racing heart to run fingertips over small crescent marks under his ears. Iwaizumi grimaced and looked away, tucking his hands in his pockets as if that would keep them from hurting anyone else. “How did you do that?” Oikawa asked once he was sure the fingernail marks weren’t deep enough to have drawn blood.

Iwaizumi didn’t have to look up to know Oikawa was talking about the five kids laying on the ground. “I don't know, it happens sometimes.” He muttered, his regularly straight posture folding in on itself. Oikawa had never seen that happen to Iwaizumi before. “I can’t really control it.” He offered as a means of explanation. Oikawa reached forward and with careful hands drew one of Iwaizumi’s own hands out of his pocket. Clasping it firmly in his own, Oikawa forced Iwaizumi to look up. 

“It’s ok.” He said finally. Iwaizumi shook his head but didn't verbally disagree so Oikawa filled the space. “I am going to help you. As your best friend it’s my job, and I wont stop helping you Iwa-chan until I can tickle you.”

Iwaizumi looked up at Oikawa. His regularly open expression had shock written all over before it was schooled into a more acceptable expression of disbelief. It then faded into something else, softer, making Oikawa’s heart clench. “Shittykawa.” He just said, looking away and smoothing out his jacket with one hand. Oikawa smiled back and then turned, hand still holding Iwaizumi’s as he led the way back home. 

xXx

Third year at Aoba Johsai. 

They discovered what was different about Iwaizumi Hajime. 

Walking through the door with Oikawa, Iwaizmi called out to his parents as he slid off his shoes, Oikawa close behind him. “Hello? I'm heading over to Oikawa’s tonight so no need to make dinner…” Walking into the living room, Iwaizumi’s voice tapered off and his eyes were drawn to the tv playing for the empty room. 

“For those of you just tuning in today, we have an emergency announcement. Please be on the lookout for these dangerous creatures, identifiable by the serial number between their shoulder blades.” The woman newscaster was wearing bright red lipstick, silver eyeshadow and had a coffee stain on her suit jacket.

Iwaizumi noticed none of those things, his gaze fixed on the picture in the right hand corner of the screen. It was a bare back with two numbers and one letter listed out between the shoulder blades, uncentered and uneven. The skin was still puckered around the tattoo area and from the image alone any viewer could see that the subject of the image was very young. 

Oikawa walked in after Iwaizumi and stopped in the hall, eyes also immediately catching the news. 

“It is said that such experiments have grown from their original ages of anywhere from three years to eight years of age. They should now be between the ages of seventeen and twenty two. If you know of any individual with these markings or see suspicious behavior please call the number above.” A large nine digit number filled the top half of the screen and Oikawa stepped closer. His eyes were still locked on the serial number image. 

“Iwa-chan, is that-'' he didn’t need to finish. Both of them had memorized the strange tattoo on Iwaizumi’s back. It matched the image perfectly. Off center and unevenly spaced between his shoulder blades. 

Reaching up, Oikawa’s hand gently rested on Iwaizumi’s spine. The touch seemed to burn through the fabric and sear his skin. He didn’t flinch. 

“These experiments seem to be called DESS’s or Dangerously Enhanced Secret Soldiers,” Oikawa’s hand fisted into Iwaizumi’s shirt. “And while they look normal, their reflexes and senses have been heightened to properly compensate for warfare. They are volatile and unfit for civilian interaction. Once again, if you know of any individual with these markings or suspicious behavior please call the number above.” The tv shut off, remote shaking slightly in Iwaizumi’s hand. 

“I don’t think your parents are home.” Oikawa said finally in the silence ringing after noise from the news disappeared. Iwaizumi shook his head, his tongue too heavy in his mouth to form words. An experiment. From a lab working with the army. 

He was a creature. 

“Iwa-chan?” Forcing his vision to focus, Iwaiuzmi looked over at his friend. Oikawa’s brown eyes were steady, holding his gaze. “We’re going to my house and you are going to stay there ok? We’ll go to school, we’ll play volleyball, everything will be okay, okay?” 

Iwaizumi clenched his jaw, teeth grinding together until they ached. “Oikawa, the volleyball team has seen me without my shirt on.” He reminded. “They’ll know I’m one of those... things.” 

Oikawa smacked Iwaizumi in the arm, a small amount of joy pierced the dread in his gut when his best friend didn’t try to rip off his head for it. “They’re your team. You’re their ace Iwa-chan, don't think so little of us.” Oikawa started to tug Iwaizumi out the door. “Besides, if any of them try anything I’ll take them down myself.” The threat sounded eerily like a promise. 

They crept out of the house, looking both ways along the street before running down the block and safely making it to Oikawa’s house. They stayed there for the weekend. 

xXx

The day back to school Iwaizumi did his best to avoid looking at his teammates. He stuck close to Oikawa (which was nothing out of the norm) for the setter’s peace of mind and tried to focus more on school. 

In multiple classes the teachers brought up the news and each time Iwaizumi had to resist the urge to flinch. 

It wasn't until he was in the last class of the day when his gut dropped. 

“Class this is Doctor Henry Sullivan. He is the overseas doctor who is the head of the DESS department.” Iwaizumi’s breath caught in his throat. Next to him, Oikawa shuffled closer, sliding a hand over to rest on Iwaizumi’s leg comfortingly.

The doctor looked over the class, eyes never pausing as they scanned the room. “Hello, I hope I won't take too much time, I am just here observing and was invited to answer any questions you may have at this time.” 

Iwaizumi barely stopped his lip from curling. He’s trying to find me. He knows my parents somehow and Aobo Johsai is the closest school around. 

Whatever brought up that train of thought, it resonated in his head and Iwaizumi immediately knew he was right. It had the same clarity as a clean spike across the net. 

There was no noise until in the second row a familiar hand rose in the air. Hanamaki. Iwaizumi’s chest tightened. 

When he was acknowledged, Makki lowered his hand. “What makes these people so dangerous?” 

It was like all the breath left his body. He didn’t tell. 

The doctor laughed. “Your first mistake is calling them people,” He said. Mattsun made a face underneath his facade of indifference. “They are nothing more than animals adopting our customs to fit in and avoid collection.” He then grew more serious. “As for why they’re so dangerous, picture some stronger than a regular human, whose speed is unimaginable and who acts on instinct alone, almost unconscious of attacking others and protecting itself.” He seemed satisfied with the looks on other students’ faces. “Doesn't sound very person-like does it?” 

While other students asked questions Iwaizumi tried his best not to pay attention. The way this doctor referred to him as an object, nothing more than something to be studied, it made him feel sick. 

A student with dark red hair raised their hand. “If these animals are so dumb, why do you use them for warfare?” 

Doctor Sulivan nodded in understanding. “Well we need something to throw in front of the cannons, and killing innocent citizens is absolutely wrong.” Immediately Iwaizumi’s eyes narrowed and the pencil in his fist cracked. Oikawa looked over and Iwaizumi could feel Mattsun and Hanamaki staring holes into the side of his face. He ignored all three of them and as soon as they were dismissed made sure he was first out the door. 

The doctor was held back by the teacher and a few students, clearing the way for Iwiazumi to leave unhindered and make his way to the club room. He knew Oikawa, Mattsun and Makki were following him as fast as they could but he couldn’t care less. He needed to get as far away from that Doctor as he could. As fast as he could. 

As soon as the door to the locker room was shut behind him, he locked it and leaned back against the cool wood. Nevermind Oikawa had a key, he needed it barred. Footsteps crowded around the door and only after movement stopped did a knock sound. “Iwa-chan, are you okay in there?” 

He muffled a frustrated groan behind a hand and then pushed away from the door, quietly unlocking it after a second to re-center himself. “I’m fine.” He turned away from the door, ignoring the looks he could feel digging into his back. “Im gonna get ready for practice.” 

No one mentioned it again, and when Iwaizumi needed to change into his practice shirt Oikawa stood next to him, conveniently shielding his back. Iwaizumi’s gut clenched as he slipped on the cotton shirt, feeling ants crawl down his spine. 

They were halfway through practice when the tension reached unbearable levels (thankfully the coach wasn’t coming to practice that day, he would have noticed). Iwaizumi had just slammed a spike down across the net, working up a sweat when Hanamaki approached him. “So, the real reason why I can never beat you in an arm wrestling contest is because you’ve been cheating,” 

The gym grew unnaturally quiet, the squeak of sneakers pausing as all eyes sped towards the two. Iwaizumi looked over at Makki, his expression carefully blank. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

Oikawa moved closer, probably to cut the tension but Makki raised a hand, stopping him in his tracks. “Iwaizumi.” Closing his eyes, the ace turned his body to fully face his fellow third year. He braced himself. “You can’t honestly believe that we’re stupid enough to not know. You’ve been on this team for three years, same as Oikawa, Mattsun and I.” 

The rest of the players seemed to draw closer. 

“We’re not assholes, you know that.” Makki continued and despite the situation Iwaizumi couldn’t help but scoff. 

“Yeah you are.” 

The retort caused a grin to split Makki’s face. “Well actually you’re right but that's besides the point. You’re our ace, we need you to make it to nationals.” Makki’s expression slid slyly into a smirk. “Besides, it is inhuman to be able to take on Ushiwaka. Should have known something was different about you.” He jabbed. 

The atmosphere cracked and Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. Oikawa came up and smacked Makki on the back of the head. “Now that you two are done, let's move on with practice. We aren’t going to get to nationals by standing here talking.” 

Sending a ball into the air, Kyōtani jumped between the three and spiked it harshly over the net. He straightened up after his landing and looked between the third years, his expression fierce. It spurred them into action. “Right, practice.’ Makki said with fake enthusiasm. “Yay.” 

Mattsun smacked in the same spot Oikawa did. 

Practice evolved from spiking and setting to games of three on three, the players not on the court observing from the sides. Iwaizumi was too high strung to be off court for too long and Oikawa noticed, making sure to keep the ace in as long as possible. After three sets, the natural leadership and excitement started to ooze out of Iwaizumi, infecting the players on his side of the net. On the other side of the court, Kindaichi gulped. “Oh we are so dead.” He said. Yahaba nodded in agreement.

“Yep.” 

They were halfway through a play, Iwaizumi leaping up to powerfully spike the ball when the door opened. 

No one bothered to dig up the spike as all eyes looked towards the entrance of the gym. When Iwaizumi glanced over his heart stopped. The doctor (what was his name?) Henry Sullivan stood in the doorway. 

The quiet was deafening and then shattered as armed soldiers streamed into the gym, surrounding the court and raising weapons or large body shields. “Hands up!” A soldier in the crowd shouted, others repeating the order. Iwaizumi slowly raised his arms to hover above his head and from the sidelines Mattsun lowered the volleyball he was holding, following Iwaizumi’s example soon after. The team did as directed, 

“What seems to be the problem sir?” Oikawa asked, still looking dignified while being forced at gunpoint to surrender. 

Doctor Sullivan completely disregarded him. 

“Check.” He said softly to a soldier standing next to him. The man nodded, his black tactical suit so very out of place in a high school gym. He crept forward, gun raised and trained carefully on Iwaizumi. No one moved as the soldier moved around to stand behind him but there was a small sound coming from Kindaichi. 

Iwaizumi sucked in a shaky breath as the cold barrel of a rifle hit him in the lower back. The sound made half the guns in the room swing to point toward him.

“Wait-” Oikawa took one step before he was forced to a stop, the delicacy of the situation crushing his protests. Every member of the team had at least one weapon pointed at them, their lives very much at stake. They could not afford to argue. 

The barrel of the gun behind Iwaizumi hooked under his cotton tee and slowly nudged it up, exposing the long slope on his spine until it stopped just inches above his shoulder blades. “Turn around.” The soldier grunted. Iwaizumi didn’t move, his expression fixed in a scowl. “I said turn.” Whipping his gun out and to the side, he slammed the butt into the ace’s raised elbow making him stumble. A low growl made it up his throat. 

Guns clicked as the safety was turned off. 

Iwaizumi felt anger boiling in his gut but did as he was told, turning so his back was to the door. The thud of footsteps was his only warning before hands were touching his back, tugging the fabric away from his skin. The teammates in his line of sight, Kyōtani and Watari, were both staring at Iwaizumi. He didn’t know what scared him more, the fact that Kyōtani looked like he was seconds away from attacking an armed man, or the fact that Watari (sweet dependable Watari who cried once when he almost sat on a butterfly) wore the same expression. 

“Asset 13A, I was wondering where you had run off to.” Sullivan said and Iwaizumi’s blood burned under his skin. “Playing pretend I see, and volleyball no less.” There was a snort. “How… unorthodox.” Skinny fingers dropped the shirt and after a moment Iwaizumi allowed himself to inhale. The doctor moved with direct purpose, strolling around to look at the ace’s face. “This is not your purpose, and those unintelligent agents you called parents almost robbed you of fulfilling your destiny.” 

If it were anyone else, Iwaizumi would have decked them for that. He wanted to punch this man in the face more than anything. His hands itched to be used and while he kept his arms up, he formed fists. He had nothing to say to this bastard. 

“On your knees.” Sullivan ordered. Iwaizumi’s teeth grinded together. He would do no such thing. As if expecting this behavior, the doctor nodded to the soldier beside him. Without words, the armed man moved forward, raising his gun to point smoothly at Iwiazumi’s temple. Oikawa made a sound of protest but was silenced with a glare and jab in the arm via the barrel of a rifle. 

“Do as he says.” The soldier next to Iwaizumi monotoned. Iwaizumi still did not move, glaring straight into Sullivan’s eyes. He wasn’t going to kneel. 

“Iwa-chan,” glancing over, the ace made eye contact with Oikawa. He looked terrified and his eyes kept flickering over to the gun pointed at Iwaizumi’s head. 

“You should listen to your friend 13A.” Sullivan looked over to Oikawa. “What’s your name?” 

Iwaizumi hissed, “None of your fucking business.” Shooting a glance at the captain, he flexed his jaw and glared at Sullivan. “Don’t talk to him.” 

The gun at his temple suddenly lunged forward, moving to crack against his head. Iwaizumi dodged backwards, his body jerking before the metal could hit him. Sullivan noted this, his lips curling into a grin. The multiple other soldiers in the room all tensed, the gun that was at his temple now hovering by his ear. “I see your reflexes are still functioning,” he looked at Iwaizumi consideringly. “Surprising, I would have thought that if you retained any abilities they would have gotten you in trouble by now.” He then shook his head. “It’s a shame you were taken from us, you could've been the deadliest weapon in the world. You have potential.” Raising a hand, Sullivan motioned to the soldier standing next to Oikawa. “Now on your knees.” 

The soldier standing by the volleyball captain reacted to the silent order, cocking his gun threateningly and shoving the barrel into the side of Oikawa’s head. Iwaizumi’s breath caught in his throat. He snapped his teeth at the doctor. “Leave him alone!” Taking a step towards Oikawa, Iwaizumi started to lower his arms but the gun in his friend’s face jammed itself further into his hair. Oikawa flinched at the contact but didn’t give any indication afterwards that he was afraid. 

“If you are not touching the floor in the next five seconds, your friend will be shot. If you still refuse, he will be shot for every added second you resist.” Iwaizumi’s eyes widened and he whirled his head around to look at Sullivan. “One…” 

Iwaizumi clenched his fists in time with his jaw but lowered himself onto his knees, unable to look at the doctor. He instead looked over at Oikawa. Brown eyes met green and Iwaizumi exhaled, barely nodding once. It was going to be okay. Once both knees were touching the floor, the gun to Oikawa’s head backed off. It sent relief rushing through Iwaizumi’s body. 

The doctor hummed. “Amazing. You formed social connections like a human.” He draped a hand over Iwiazumi’s head, petting it condescendingly. A growl built in Iwaizumi’s throat but before he could snap a retort Sullivan grabbed a clump of hair and yanked backwards, forcing Iwaizumi’s head to one side and baring his neck. “Just don't forget that you aren’t human, don’t forget your place pet.” 

“Get your hands off of him!” Oikawa shouted, his expression twisting in disgust. “He’s a person.” 

Sullivan hummed at the dripping hostility in Oikawa’s voice. “No. He’s not.” 

“How- how can you say that?” Kindaichi was frozen stock still, as shocked by his question as everyone else. With millions of eyes on him, he swallowed. “Iwaizumi-san’s right there,” Kindaichi glanced at Iwaizumi before looking away. It felt wrong to see his senpai kneeling like that. He instead looked to the doctor. “He’s right there and even an idiot can see he’s a person.” 

Sullivan looked consideringly at the first year, his eyes narrowing as he stared in silence at him. With a jerk of his head, he motioned to Kindaichi. “Shoot him.” 

Iwaizumi’s chest filled with ice. “No!” 

The soldier standing closest to Sullivan raised his gun and so Iwaizumi lunged for him, catching him around the waist and forcing him down. The shot went wide and dug a hole in the gym wall, sparking action in every corner of the gym. Iwaizumi pinned the soldier down on his back, sitting on his chest and wrapping one hand around his neck, the other drawing back with a clenched fist. He was seconds away from throwing the punch when something ripped through his shoulder blade, something sharp. 

He turned to find the culprit and snarled when a soldier backed up, something in Iwaizumi’s gut telling him that's the one, that the one attacking you. Before anyone else could move, Iwaizumi rolled off the soldier on the ground and bared his teeth towards the man he was determined to kill. He took two rushed steps before another sharp jolt of pain set his shoulder on fire, making his feet stutter and he stumbled. Catching himself with his hands on the floor, red droplets hit Iwaizumi’s hands. He was bleeding. Oh.

“Stop! Stop it!” Someone was shouting. 

Looking up, Iwaizumi saw Oikawa struggling against thick arms that held him back. He looked pained, like someone had taken a chunk of skin and ripped it clean off. His eyes were wide and his cheeks were flushed that distinct red color that meant he was upset. Get away, get away from him. Iwaizumi moved to force himself up when a foot came crashing down against his shoulder, digging into two holes there. Shot twice. Iwaizumi’s mind supplied as he was ground into the floor. A pained groan wormed its way past his gritted teeth and the foot increased it’s pressure. Muscles flexing, Iwaizumi gave a short yell as the flesh grated. 

“Leave him alone!” This was a different voice, coming from his left. Glancing over through spotted vision, Iwaizumi saw Makki push back against two soldiers trying to hold him back. Get away, get away from them. He was useless, pinned to the floor like the animal Sulivan claimed him to be - no.

He was made for war, Iwaizumi will show them fucking war. 


End file.
